


let's do it like they do in my furry animes

by Authoress



Series: let's do it like they do on tv [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Memes, Middle School AU, my nyas, tsukishima 'im the straight man except aggressively no homo to hide my homo' kei, warrior cat oc's, weeaboos????, why the fuck did i agree to write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4012051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authoress/pseuds/Authoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, like nya?” Tetsurou implores Kei to remember some childhood he had where the word ‘nya’ meant anything to him. (He didn’t have such a childhood.)</p><p>“What?” Kei starts to sweat a little bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's do it like they do in my furry animes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [punkflunked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkflunked/gifts).



> so scout talked me into making this a series.
> 
> if it's any comfort i just had a constant stream of 'i hate myself for writing this' circling in my head while writing.
> 
> (i unironically love middle school dork kuroo oh god please help me he is a Son)

 

_It was a beautiful day and the furries were fighting._

Kei puts his pen down. He can’t do this. He can’t write a story about Tetsurou and Kenma’s warrior cat OC’s no matter how hard he tries. No matter how objectively and completely heterosexually attractive Tetsurou was, Kei just couldn’t write “hot yaoiz xD” about a strong, muscular and virile seme cat and his gorgeous, silky-furred uke lover who was “not like the other cats.” Kei zips his jacket up to his chin and sticks his face in it to hide from the shame of facing Tetsurou with failure.

Alas, gym class ends all too soon and Kei is forced to face the inevitable wrath of the weeaboos. He sulks on in to chemistry class, having to make physical effort not to wince at the Shiba Inu on the door that declared the classroom beyond contained “so science” and “much smart” and “wow.”

“The fuck does ‘so science’ even mean?” Kei mutters to himself, shuddering. Unfortunately, he didn’t mutter very quietly, because the entire classroom—teacher included—turned to stare at him.

The teacher sighed. “You know the rule, Kei-kun. One ‘feels guy’ token in the Sad Pepe Jar for each swear word you use.” Kei knows. It’s the same reason he contemplates shoving his hand in a meat grinder instead of coming to class.

“Good fucking riddance,” he says, throwing the wrinkled grey man’s face into the drooping frog-faced container. He’s not quiet this time either.

“Another one, Kei-kun,” the teacher sighs louder. Another token is released into the jar. Free him.

Kei reluctantly walks over to the lap table in the back, where his assigned seat is next to Kuroo Tetsurou. He really, really hates sitting next to Tetsurou. You see, Kei was raised in a traditional Christian household where having like-like feelings towards another guy was a big no-no. Every night, Kei prayed the gay away with all his heart. And yet, each day, Tetsurou remained just as un-smighted as he had been the day before. Kei’s not completely sure what it is that attracts him to Tetsurou so much. Maybe it’s the sick bands he gets on his braces, orange and black even though it’s not Halloween, just because he knows they’re Kei’s favorite colors. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s slightly less pimply than the rest of the boys and just a hair more than the girls. Maybe it’s the fact that his hair is gelled into the ugliest rat’s nest of bedhead Kei has ever seen and he smells like he bathed in cheap cologne and he cuts his chin shaving the three hairs that grow there and one time Kei caught him picking his nose which was relief because Kei, also…where was he going with this.

Ah, yes. The reasons he was utterly and unfortunately in love-love with Kuroo Tetsurou, puberty’s mistake.

Tetsurou pats the seat next to him and flashes a blinding smile of metal and uneven teeth. Kei manages to grimace back and sit down, but is immediately pulled into a one-armed hug of ‘no homo’ and ‘broship.’

“Kei,” Tetsurou lisps into Kei’s ear. “Listen…I know you don’t really like the feels guys and Sad Pepe Jar, so I drew them as anime characters for you. Hopefully, you'll like them better this way.”

Kei stares at the crudely drawn boys, both with eyes horrifically proportioned to their faces, like yawning chasms sucking Kei into the void of anime hell, beckoning him deeper and deeper into their depths… “They’re…nice,” Kei manages. “Thanks?”

“Watashi wa think that they are sugoi desu nya~” Tetsurou says, or at least Kei _thinks_ he says it, because he can’t understand Kuroo over his fucking _weeaboo accent_.

“Tetsurou, _why_ are you speaking Japanese in a crude American accent, and _why_ are you referring to yourself with a generally feminine pronoun?” Kei asks, horrified. A part of his mind unconsciously commits the murmured ‘thugoi’ to memory and Kei has the sinking feeling he’s going to wake up from a wet dream tomorrow in a cold sweat and an echoing, lisping American accent in the back of his mind.

“I’m _trying_ to understand weeaboo culture,” Tetsurou explains, almost excitedly. “They’re such an interesting species…life imitates art, and all that.”

 _Isn’t it…isn’t it ‘art imitates life,’_ Kei thinks to himself, but doesn’t say anything aloud. He’s so embarrassed to be in Tetsurou’s presence he can’t move to escape from his furry clutches. And, speaking of furries—

“Do you have my nyas?” Tetsurou whispers to Kei as the teacher begins to lecture.

“Huh?” _Play dumb, Kei. Play dumb._

“You know, like nya?” Tetsurou implores Kei to remember some childhood he had where the word ‘nya’ meant anything to him. (He didn’t have such a childhood.)

“What?” Kei starts to sweat a little bit.

“Nya?” Tetsurou offers, and it’s at that point that Kei realizes Tetsurou is wearing a headband with black cat ears, a cheap spike collar that is beginning to give him a rash on his neck, and a sad, limp piece of black fabric safety-pinned to his jeans in a pathetic imitation of a cat’s tail. Tetsurou holds his hands up like paws, tucked into his hoodie and tilts his head to the side as the ‘nya’ leaves his mouth, and Kei already has a response on his tongue.

“ _Stop_ ,” he hisses. “Please, for the love of god, I’ll write your shitty yow-ies just please stop doing that.” Tetsurou practically _gleams_ , and it takes a well-timed hand pressed in his face to keep him from ‘glomping’ Kei, as he was prone to doing.

Salvation from sin comes in the form of a knock at the door of the classroom, to which the teacher calls “Who is it?”

“FRENCH REVOLUTION!” Yamaguchi Tadashi screams, throwing open the door and waving a tiny Japanese flag. “VIVE LES AMIS!” Salvation from sin comes at high price though, Kei realizes when it occurs to him he is seen in public quite often with Tadashi. He sinks down in his chair.

Their chemistry teacher, to his credit, only blinks politely and patiently. “And what would the French teacher like with my class?” He asks.

“I’m here for Tsukishima Kei,” Tadashi declares, saluting sloppily. “His big brother came here to drop off his lunch because he forgot it this morning…oh, hi Tsukki! Akiteru-kun says he loves you!” Kei focuses all his efforts into fusing with the chair or sinking into the abyss. He shoots a hopeful look at Tetsurou’s drawings, wishing that their hideous eyes could swallow him up now, but they just stare back, mockingly froze in open-mouthed smiles.

“Well, Kei-kun, why don’t you fetch your lunch?” The teacher suggests, but he might as well have said _hey Kei, would you like to hang your social status by the throat?_ Nevertheless, Kei follows orders, slumping out of his chair and taking the walk of shame to the front of the room to take his lunch from a smiling Tadashi. Damn. He couldn’t punch Tadashi if he was wearing that sweet, can-do-no-wrong smile.

On Kei’s paper bag, his name was drawn on in swirly letters with hearts and kissy lips surrounding it, no doubt the work of Akiteru and his nefarious plan to get Kei laughed out of school so that he could spend more time with his little brother. That’s okay; it was only on one side. No one had to know.

“Oooo what’s that drawing? Is your brother an artist?” Tetsurou asks excitedly, loud enough for their table neighbors to look over. _I hope the French Revolution takes both you and Akiteru for this, Tadashi,_ Kei thinks. “Can I doodle on here too?” Tetsurou pesters Kei, who just shoves his face into his hands in response, which is enough of a ‘yes’ for Tetsurou to start drawing.

However, in the middle of trying to erase himself from existence, Kei managed to fall asleep. His dreams consist of the blurred shape of Tetsurou above him, wearing a sexy cat costume, complete with a boob window, attempting to put a cat-ear headband on Kei. _’My nyas…my nyas…’_ Dream-Tetsurou chants. _’Put this headband on and this tail plug up your butt and you, too, can become a neko girl…’_ Kei wakes with a jolt and a gasp when Tetsurou touches his shoulder, the echo of _‘thugoi’_ and _‘kawaii’_ ringing in Kei’s ears.

“Look!” Tetsurou seems proud of himself. He holds up Kei’s lunch bag, the other side now decorated with two anime-haired cats—one black one and one sand-colored one with glasses—both with their noses pressed together and tongues tangling in a biologically impossible attempt at making out. “It’s us as cats,” Tetsurou says softly, proudly. He strokes the bag lovingly.

“Get out of my house,” Kei says flatly.

Tetsurou blinks and tilts his head to the side. “But we aren’t in your house, Kei-kun.”

“Irrelevant,” Kei replies.

Tetsurou looks crestfallen at Kei’s disappointment. He exaggerates a frown in a failed attempt to make it look like whiskers drooping. The sad scrap of a tail almost seems to quiver. The scent of cologne clogs Kei’s senses and makes his head swim, almost enough to the point where he forgives Tetsurou, but he has to draw the line in the sand somewhere. This is the end of the line.

“They were just some cats,” Tetsurou mumbles, the victim of unnecessary scrutiny, similar to a person who might have been, in another life, shamed for attempting to perform a mundane household task, like cooking dinner that was unappealing to the other occupant of the house, particularly of the warm, liquid variety.

But Kei has had enough. Enough of his unpicked zits and Hot Topic shirts; his bitten nails and body odor. As much as Kei is inexplicably attracted to him like a guppy is to an anglerfish’s bioluminescence, it is time for this fishy to just keep swimming. However, since Kei is also a weakass, he can’t summon the will to call off their broship verbally. Instead, he scribbles down the most heartfelt apology he can think of in the two minutes before the bell rings.

As the bell rings, so Kei rises, tossing the paper at a confused Tetsurou and fleeing for his life. He doesn’t wait to see Tetsurou’s hopeful face crumble in defeat. He doesn’t wait to see Tetsurou collapse against their lap table, weeping and sniffling as a piece of paper with the words ‘you are a disgusting little man’ flutters to the floor. (And unfortunately, Tetsurou doesn't see the other side of the note, where Kei wrote that as much as he hated to inform Tetsurou of this, his beloved cheap-ass collar was giving him an allergic reaction and he should probably get that looked at pretty soon.)

He does, however, wait when Tetsurou pulls himself together and rushes out the chemistry room door, wailing Kei’s name, pleading for him to wait up, promising he can change. Kei waits. _This_ is, of course, what he had hoped for. Tetsurou forgetting his life as a weeaboo-wannabe and nekofucker to pursue Kei with all his heart. Kei waits, in the middle of the hallway, to be scooped into his fated lover’s arms.

And he is scooped up.

Just not by Tetsurou.

Tetsurou tumbles past Kei, having dived for a hug, only to find that Kei is lifted into the air and scooped into the arms of one Tsukishima Akiteru, the disapproving brother figure. Tetsurou lands face-first, ass sticking in the air. _Although it **is** a pretty nice ass, as far as flat asses go,_ Kei thinks.

Cawing triumphantly, Akiteru extends one leg into the air at a perfectly ninety-degree angle, still holding Kei. “FOOLISH,” he declares and then turns on his heel, Naruto-running down the hallway and to Kei’s next class to drop him off.

Tetsurou got TetsuOWNED.

 

(once again, thank [**scout**](https://twitter.com/kageyameme) for these lovely illustrations that inspire me to meme.)

**Author's Note:**

> this is how you write kurotsuki right


End file.
